40 Love

Anytime we watched a sport on TV, Appa had to interject with the "11 fools playing and 11,000 fools watching" comment. He said it so often that I was heart-broken later on in life, to learn that it was actually George Bernard Shaw who supposedly uttered those words first. It is an altogether different story that Appa secretly enjoyed watching.........well, good sporting contests. After all, he was the one who woke me up as a kid at 3AM in the morning to watch India win the World series in Australia on a B&W Uptron set, with a shutter and lock to boot. It was nearly the same pattern with my Thata, who felt compelled to entertain us with the tale of a kudumi Rangachari, fast bowling from one end of the Chepauk (as they apparently watched from the tree tops, a long, long time ago). Kids and Oldies alike, loved hearing that same old story over and over again. Some stories never quite get that old. In fact, I wish that my grandad were around to tell the kudumi Rangachari story, one more time. It didn't seem to matter whether the sport we were watching was Tennis, Cricket, Pole Vault or Synchronized women's swimming; they must have been in some manner genetically coded to say these things, at pre-ordained moments.


I am reminded of this as I watch the Australian Open. Yes, the tennis season is finally upon us after a long hiatus. Yet another enthralling season of two people armed with rackets attempting to place a ball into the very extremeties of a rectangular box. It was on that same Uptron TV set that I watched my first tennis match and needless to say, fell in love with the game. I remember using my cricket bat as a make-shift tennis raquet to bang a rubber ball for many-an-endless hour on my neighbors's wall (to their obvious chagrin).


There are so many aspects of tennis that fascinate me: Players trying to get the red clay from their boots at Rolland Garros; The enduring allure of Wimbledon: All whites in a lawn and the polite applause after a point is played; The sound of sneakers screeching on hard courts; The random nature of points awarded - 15, 30, 40 & love (which other sport gives love for failing?);


You see, I watch tennis out of envy. Had circumstances been a bit different I could have been one of those 23-year olds, travelling to various corners of the world to showcase my talent. But when I grew up in Madras, sport was a tertiary activity after Studies and Classical music (Mridangam, in my case). I loved neither very much and wanted to be a tennis player. But alas, dreams remained just dreams.


So, as Roger Federer glides around the court, as though conducting a symphony, I can only conjecture what if's.